American Psychos
by Loneliestgeminis
Summary: "I found out later, she never forgot her lighter, she carried it like a bible." Tate Langdon, 18 years old, a diagnosed Psychopath finds himself falling in love with his therapist's daughter. Above anything else that could happen. Tate's POV. AU.
1. Smoke

**A/N: Please enjoy! If you like leave a review! Thank you!**

I wasn't supposed to fall in love. I was a diagnosed psychopath, void of any feelings toward anyone else but my own, that is what the definition in the dictionary said. My therapist gave me a watered down synopsis, I wasn't stupid. I know there's something wrong with me. My psyche, I'm not your average 18 year old.

You'd think I'd be out partying, planning my senior trip, taking photos with friends and contacting colleges, after all, the best years of my life were finally over. Whoever came up with that stupid quote deserves their ass kicked. Brutally. If High School is even involved in the best years of your life, then you've failed. Miserably.

But, I did meet her. It was a mistake, really. I was skipping my first period as always, English. Used to be one of my favorite classes until the school fired the teacher I liked and replaced him with some hyper sensitive bitch. Now I hate it.

I stood along the exterior of the building I couldn't stand, I take out the pack of camels I snagged from my mother's purse, she was an idiot above anything else, oh, and a whore.

I slide a black sharpie stained lighter from my jean pocket, flicking it on a few times to check its juice before lining the cig against my lips and igniting the nicotine to flow within me. The small high was nice, I let out a mixed sigh, resting my head against the surface behind me, gazing at the blue sky, birds chirping, clouds swirling, sun shining. The high was rising. I liked to blow my smoke to the earth above me, in some twisted peace offering.

I'm interrupted by the sound of twigs cracking, followed by two pairs of combat boots, neither tied. They belonged to a girl, a girl I recognized as a transfer from Boston. She was in my History class.

She looked absolutely ridiculous, a heavy army-like jacket paired with an ankle length dress the same color as her eyes, a deep hazel. She darted a surprised glare, as if I were security, I watch her sigh in relief when she notices my face, she stands beside me, a few feet away, but close enough.

Silently she pulls out a pack of Marlboros from her jacket's large pocket, a sly grin moves her still lips as she catches my hazy leering, she taps the small box against her palm before opening it, pulling a single cig out. After some rustling in her bag she had draped around her, she looks to me with a helpful stare only a smoker would understand.

We don't speak when I light her end, our eyes did the talking. I couldn't help but smile when she coughed a bit, she was new to this. I return to my spot, we smoke. Both releasing the toxic air, silently exchanging our shared hatred for the "school" behind us.

Before I know it she's gone. It was odd, parallel almost. I felt alone now. From that point on, we met silently, smoking a sinful cigarette in a no smoking zone, like those boastful rebels, not once did we speak, but I always lit her cigarette. Always.

Somewhere between unspoken words. I fell in love with her. I couldn't get her out of my mind. Could I be in love? Or maybe it was an illusion. I only read of love in the ancient poetry books I'd find in my basement. Still, even as empty as I felt. Loving someone sounded life changing. And it was.

I began to search for her face in the crowds in school when I attended, I never saw her aside from History class. She was always sat in the back, I couldn't move seats so it was no use. Knowing she was there was enough, her energy caused the nerves within my body to crackle like fire. It was new and often frustrating.

Until one day. The day we exchanged words for the first time. It was life altering alright.

"Hey, Mr. Harmon."

I step inside the in home office of my psychiatrist, Ben Harmon. Whom I've been seeing off and on for a few months, he was alright. Fun to talk too, mostly.

He meets me at the door with a forced grin, I could tell he wasn't in the mood for a session, but he needed the money and I needed the help. What are you gonna do?

"Tate, how was school?"

He shuts the door, I drag my feet down the small hallway between the entrance and the office he saw me in. I shrug and shake my hair with my right hand.

"It was alright."

"Good to hear-"

The sound of a door slamming up the stairs of his home halts his lips, his aging face tenses as he looks up the banister. I do the same. I knew he was married, but I'd never seen his wife. Or kid. I couldn't remember if he had a daughter or son.

The sound of footsteps slapping against wood answered my question, as the stranger came into view my jaw dropped slowly then all at once.

She raises a brow as she nears the final step.

"Violet, I have a session. I told you, stay upstairs."

Ben grunts. She shakes her head, trying not to meet my heavy glancing.

"I'm hungry. It's my house too."

I've never heard her speak, not once. But God, it suited her.

He twitches an eye as she flips her head to the side, smiling at me shortly before disappearing into the kitchen I presume. My heart was heavy. Fuck.

"I'll have to cancel today. I forgot I have my own doctor appointment." He bursts, embarrassment took over his face. "Okay, that's fine." I breathe **out,** hoping she'd turn around the corner again.

He runs into his office quickly, I stand outside of it, watching him through the glass doors, he was as much of a mess as I was.

"Hey."

A hard tap pulls me away from the man struggling through paperwork, I turn to my left and look down at the girl that captured my mind.

"..Hi."

She bobs her head to the side as she grins. She had dimples, they were faint, but oh so beautiful. Reaching up, she pulls back her soft brown hair behind her ear, A shallow chuckle erupts before she speaks again.

"Thanks for always spotting me. I always forget my lighter."

In that moment, I felt a part of me die, wither away. I feel a giddy laugh build in my chest, I hold it as I keep my composure.

"Don't worry about it."

I found out later, she never forgot her lighter, she carried it like a bible.


	2. Make Me Feel

**A/N: Chapter two! I haven't given much info on this fic, I have some floating ideas for it. So far, I'm enjoying it! It's an AU set in the 90s when Tate was alive and 18 and Violet goes to school with him. I'm sure you all know that by now, haha..Anyway, if you're enjoying please leave a quick review, it takes a moment to do but it makes my day and fuels my fingers to continue writing. Also, a warning for anyone who is depressed, suicidal or suffer from any mental illness, this is the POV of Tate and we all know he's got some serious darkness going on. I have tried to capture that and will continue to do so as the fic goes on. Also, yes, there will be sex at some point. I can't stop myself!**

 **Enjoy!**

I learned she was a smart ass, pretty fast. She was kind to me often, but between the lines she'd burst a few sarcastic statements, didn't bother me. I thought it was sort of hot.

"I hate my dad. He's a lying, cheating scumbag. I wish my mom would've left his sorry ass, instead of getting pregnant again. She's forty-two. Who has kids that old?"

Her lips moved fast as she talked, she had a lot to say for someone who was so quiet, I liked talking to her now. It made the awkward smoking sessions less weird.

"That's crazy. My mom's too old for that. If she could still have kids she'd have a hundred. She's a major whore, she sucked off the principle once just to keep me in school. They dated undercover for awhile."

Violet choked on her spit, laughing. "What! Isn't he married with like three kids?"

I nod, she shakes her head sadly, placing the cig back in her mouth.

"What a shame.."

"Yeah, why'd your mom stay?"

"Because she's a dumbass and in love."

I laugh. She was so exciting.

"What happened to your dad? Did he leave?"

White smoke exits from her nose, like a pissed off dragon.

"Yeah, he did. He left my mom because she's a psycho bitch."

"Hm, I kinda wanna meet her."

Then the bell rings, we both routinely panic and smash the cigarettes into the earth beneath us.

"I have social studies next, how about you?"

She says, winding her bag around her.

"I have a study period. I'm gonna go to the library, believe it or not I have good grades."

Violet laughs. "I'm an honors student."

"What grade are you?" I couldn't believe I never asked, or knew. Then again I never paid attention in history class.

"I'm a junior, you?"

"A senior."

"An older guy? I like that."

She raises her thin brows and turns around stomping back into the building. Leaving me to feel the reminisce of the growing love I had for her. It was surreal.

Once sixth period began I noticed she wasn't there, I grumble under my breath as I take the same old seat.

"Tate, I'm surprised to see you here, you've been here all week."

Mr. Fenton jokes, what an asshole.

I don't reply, instead I pull out a ripped and pen scribbled notebook and flop it on top of my desk. He walks away in fear, I can see it in his eyes, he's scared shitless of me. Serves him right.

Once class was done I was the first to leave, I leave about four seconds before the bell, despite the teachers orders, They'd give me detention but I freak the woman out in there, so they just let me I guess.

I walk through the crowd of people, some treat me like Moses, parting like waves as I went through, staring at me. I put two and two together, I wore heavy combat boots, not those fake ones you get in any old shoe store and I wore black most of the time. I looked pretty intimidating. Enough for the students of this shithole to leave me alone.

I get to my car, a beaten up old Mercedes, the color of my mom's cheap lipstick, red and tacky.

I throw my bag in the back of the car, opening the drivers side I hear my name being called. It was an old friend of mine, Jordon.

"Hey Tate, you going to my house party tonight?"

"Why, you've never invited me before?"

I sneer as he runs up beside me.

"Well, I heard you got stuff…ya know?"

I forgot to mention, from time to time I sell blow. Only when I get it from my coworker who works with me at the record store.

"I have some, why?"

"Because, I want a badass party man, we're seniors!"

I look at his excited face, kinda sad. He was a good guy when I first met him in ninth grade, he was shy and reserved, straight A student and had a future. His Mom died of cancer when we were sophomores, guy went down hill fast.

"Yeah, I'll get you some. Meet me at record store by the pizza place downtown, I'll give it to you at eight tonight. That's when I'm out."

"Cool! How much?"

"About sixty-five."

"Why so expensive?"

"Cuz I don't like you, that's why. Do you want the blow or not?"

I slam my door shut, already annoyed.

"Fuck, fine. You'd better have it at eight."

"I will. Money first then drugs. Those at the rules."

He groans as he walks away, what a piece of shit. Then again, am I any better? Probably not, but at least I know it.

I get in my car and blast off home, slipping in my 'Nirvana' CD, 'Come As You Are' plays. I fucking loved this song. I loved Kurt Cobain, when I was fourteen I bought bleach and bleached my hair so I had his color, my mom shit herself, she loved my 'honey hair' I didn't, so I changed it. If he hadn't killed himself, I would've met him, told him how much his music helped me. Life is shitty.

I get home, my mom was on the porch with a stern face. I turn the volume down as she walks to my window, knocking on it hard.

"What?" I say. Rolling it down.

"I got a call that you're missing first period."

"Okay? Why don't you go blow the principal again."

"You listen to me, don't ever talk to me like that again. I am your mother. Respect me."

I open the door, not caring if I hit her in the process.

"Whatever. I work at five and I don't get off till eight."

"What? I thought you were taking Addy to the movies?"

"No, that was you who promised you'd do it. Not me." I say, was she nuts? She knows I work on Thursdays.

"Well I have a date."

I laugh as I walk into the house. So that's why she's so mad.

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to cancel your date and take your daughter to the movies. Like you promised."

She gasps as I walk to my room, Addy was my sister, she had Down Syndrome and couldn't leave without one of us accompanying her. I loved my sister, but I couldn't hold her hand all the time. I had to work, I had school, I take her everywhere, my mom doesn't do shit unless forced.

I fall onto my bed, I think of Violet. I miss her. It was ironic that we were neighbors, a girl next door sort of thing, well, not really. She lived in the house I used to live in, where my dad left and after awhile my mom lost the house and she's been obsessed with it since, that's why I think she's psycho. Who obsesses over a house like that?

Now Violet lived there, with her dad who's my therapist. Funny. He'd hate me if he knew I had a thing for her, he acted as if she were some precious gold medal of his, she was, but she wasn't his.

I thought of her a lot, in every way possible. She was a virgin, I knew she was. I could tell, which made my fantasies that more dirty. I couldn't help it, I haven't been this turned on by a girl before.

I've had sex. A handful of times, girls who don't like to admit we did it, when they'd see me in the hall with their boyfriends they turn away or look down in shame. Not as if I were proud of it either, we were always high when it happened, or drunk. I never had sober sex. So I guess if I ever get the chance with Violet that'd be my first.

Work rolled around and I went in, tired as always.

I worked alone with Tony, the drug dealer. He was actually a manager, we were close.

"Man it's dead in here.." I say as I flip through the sleeves of records, 'Metallica' played in the background, we weren't allowed to play this sort of music during 'peak hours' which was morning and we'd have to play jazz or something. How dumb, I'd love to show an old person some real music. Not some whimsical shit.

Tony stocks up on the candy bars up front, he turns to me and laughs. "When isn't it?" I laugh too, forced.

"Hey do you got any tools I can buy? I need some new 'equipment' for my car tool set."

I ask, my lingo for "I need some crack." I couldn't ask for drugs in store like this, with the new alarm system and security. Who'd want to steal a $10 record?

Tony pushes the cart of now empty boxes into the storage room.

"Yeah, I got a lot actually. I'll show you after work."

I nod to him and continue browsing. The old bell that signaled customers rang and actually startled me. It was her. Of all people.

"Tate, is it?"

She reads my name tag and smiles, she knew my name. I hid my excitement, I didn't want to seem like a creep.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"My mom's getting her hair done. I'm just looking.."

She stands between me and the records I was looking at. Being this close to her was intoxicating.

"Do you like Journey?" She asks, whipping out the vinyl.

"They're pretty good."

"Yeah, I think so too." She says, putting it back. Moving down the aisle.

"You weren't in sixth." I call out.

"I had a dentist appointment. Did you miss me?"

She jokes. Yes. Yes, I missed you.

"You're funny."

She turns, her long hair sways in the long ponytail she wore as she looked over her shoulder.

"Thank you…do you guys have anything new?"

"Not at the moment.."

"Got any Nirvana? The Smiths?"

Those words…that question…it was like she knew I was in love with her and she was trying to trap me so I'd never leave, I don't think I could, or would want too.

"Yeah, over here."

I walk passed her, showing her the sections.

"Woah, cool. I love this album."

She pulls up 'The Queen Is Dead'.

"Same.."

"I like your taste, Tate. I take it you're a huge Nirvana fan?"

"Why?"

"You look like Kurt Cobain, kinda. I can tell you like it."

I smile. No one notices, not that it's that obvious.

"Yeah they're my favorite band."

She smiles, she looked so beautiful when she genuinely smiled.

"I like them too. Too bad Kurt died."

"I know. It sucks."

"I didn't even know you worked here, I've been here before and there's always some old man, he never knows the music I want."

"That's Nick, he owns the shop. Don't mind him, if you want music, come to me."

Violet smirks and holds the lamented vinyl to her chest.

"I'll take this one. I got a record player for my birthday and I need more vinyls."

I run my hand over the sleeves again, over the 'popular bands of the 80's' section, I grab a 'Aerosmith' vinyl.

"I like this band too, I don't listen to them much. But I love his voice."

Violet takes it and shrugs. "Hey, I'll try it."

"What are you doing after work?" She asks, surprising me and giving my dead heart another jolt.

"I'm gonna go home."

"Oh that's too bad, I was hoping you'd ask if we could hangout..."

Tony chuckles from two aisles behind us. I ignore it and smile nervously, I could feel the heat rise in my face, I probably looked like a fucking tomato.

"I get off at eight. We could go driving."

Violet laughs in the cutest way possible, her large eyes shut almost, her round cheeks raise by the stretch of her smile. Her dimples…

"I'm excited. Bring some CDs, I wanna listen to some good music, I wanna feel something."

She demands. I nod slowly, I was scared now. I had to impress a girl like her?

"I can find something."

Violet hugs the vinyls again, averting her eyes from mine to Tony, he immediately walks to the cashier.

"Ready when you are."

"Well, this is it. See you at Eight-Fifteen."

"I get off at eight."

"I know." She says snidely as she walks to the clerk, she amazed me.


End file.
